No One Suspects the Blacksmith
by TurboNerdQueen
Summary: 'His eyes scanned the crowd as Tarrlok led him through the yard, heart sinking at the disgust and fear he saw instead of the happy faces he had come to know. All of it would forever be changed because of one simple word.' Implied Masami. Bit of an AU attempt.


The only sounds in the small cabin were that of the fire crackling in the hearth and the soft footsteps of the small ferret circling the floor. Tired green eyes followed the animal's movement, taking a deep breath and glancing up to watch the shadows on the walls dance with the flickering of the candlelight. He sighed to himself, hands going up to touch the frayed ends of the red scarf around his neck. When the silence was interrupted by a hush knocking at the door, the youth was immediately on edge, hands balled and ready for a possible fight when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I believe that is the last of our party." The older man said, stepping past the young orphan and opening the door slightly. He was met by the sight of a young woman, tourmaline eyes rimmed red from crying. She looked up, almost surprised to find the other at such a place during the late hour.

"O-oh! Excuse me, I was just out for a stroll and—" She tried to explain herself but was stopped when he raised a hand to silence her, shaking his head.

"It is quite alright. I am here for the same reason as you are." The elder beckoned her inside, casting wary glances out into the shadows before closing the door. He turned back around to see that both youths had embraced one another, the maiden's shoulders trembling with silent sobs. It had been many years since he had seen her in such a state, as if they had already lost their friend this prior evening. With a sigh, he stepped forward and placed a soothing hand on her upper back. Both of the young adults looked up to him, wiping their eyes quickly and clearing their throats. They were brave souls but were far from soldiers, which led the monk to question if they would be sufficient enough manpower to pull this off.

"Now know that what we are about to speak of is enough to land us in the stocks, if not worse. It is not too late to turn back." He said quietly, grey eyes looking into theirs. The orphan squared his jaw and shook his head.

"Forgive me of my vulgar words, sir… but I'll be damned if I have to watch anyone else die." He said, his voice strong and gruff. The maiden next to him grabbed his calloused hand in her own and nodded silently at the older gentleman, green eyes bright with tears and the fire her mother was known for. He sighed once again knowing that they were signing their own death warrants. Stepping around them, he grabbed two cloaks and held them out to both youths.

"Very well. We must act fast if we are to do this successfully…"

The first rays of the morning light fell on the tiny village, the inhabitants already awake and readying themselves for the events that would come as made obvious by the sounds coming from outside the cramped room. A small cardinal flitted by the open window, only to return a moment later and perch itself on the edge, giving the lone occupant inside the room a curious stare. The man looked up from the dirtied stone floor and met the bird's gaze, giving the small animal a smile despite the heaviness that weighed down his heart. The cardinal gave a soft chirp before taking flight and leaving him be, the barest scent of woodland pines carried on the breeze it left. It was his first visitor in hours, and no doubt his last. Mako rose, back stiff from having been immobile during the course of the cold night and made his way to the window to take a deep breath, his scarred hands reaching up to grab hold of the thick metal bars that kept him inside the tiny room. Bars he had made not too long ago at his mentor's shop.

He could still feel the heat from the furnace warming his back as he hammered away at the steel, sparks raining down on the dirt below. The smell of sulfur mixed with the coppery scent of the metal he and his worker would manipulate over time. The steam that would rise from the cooling tanks, and the occasional muffled profanity should either of them burn themselves or break something. The corners of his lips twisted upwards at the memory.

It had been easier than expected to hide himself in plain sight, not to mention that his predecessor was one in the same. The old man had to change his name to 'Zolt' after fleeing from his homeland, which never failed to make Mako grin. His time came too soon when the older man had introduced a new, advanced method of their craft to Mako. It was a violent and draining process that nearly killed Zolt in the end, yet the youth persevered. Due to his weakened state the older man was more susceptible to the fever that spread through their town. Zolt was almost a father to him, and his passing so many seasons ago was still painful for the boy. So Mako took over his mentor's trade and made it his own, creating a life for himself.

After all, who would suspect a blacksmith?

He closed his eyes, stomach clenched tight and lower lip giving the slightest tremble.

It was a beautiful day to die.

The silence he had to himself did not last, as the familiar sound of an iron lock down the hall caught his attention, followed by the synchronized fall of footsteps approaching. He steadied himself, turning around just as three others came into view. The oldest, dressed in his holy robes and clenching prayer beads in his left hand, seemed to have an air of solemn despair to him, grey eyes lingering on the imprisoned sadly. It was such a paternal stare that only made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach, ochre eyes tearing away from the monk to stare at the other two visitors.

Both wore a grim expression though it was clearly for show. Their true emotions shone brightly behind their eyes, a sadistic gleam of satisfaction to see the young man behind bars. The shorter and more round of the two stepped closer to the barred door, large keys in one hand as he smoothed his moustache with the other. The hinges groaned as he pulled the door open and smiled. Mako felt bile rise in the back of his throat as he saw the true nature of the man behind those spectacles.

"Enjoy your stay, boy?" He asked, his voice clearly holding a note of smugness to it. When the imprisoned youth refused to answer the older man scowled, motioning for the third member of the party to enter the cell. The broad-shouldered man stepped forward with shackles, giving Mako a firm stare with his fierce blue eyes.

"Come along, we don't have all day. The townspeople have been up all night in preparation just for you." He chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling while tightening the metal bracelets around the youth's wrists. "It's been a while since I've been to a burning."

"Tarrlok, such talk is improper. The boy needs his final prayers." Came a stern voice behind him, the monk stroking his beard. Giving the boy's bound wrists a sharp tug which caused him to stumble forward, Tarrlok turned to glare at the holy man.

"His kind have no need for your words, Tenzin. You would have better luck blessing a stone in the courtyard than this disgrace." He spat, leading the prisoner out of the cell and down the narrow corridor to the door. Each step echoed off the walls, amplified like that of a distant thunderstorm. Tenzin quickly sped past them, blocking the exit.

"Regardless of your opinion, I am present to perform last rights should the boy see fit." He said calmly, though his words held an edge of contempt towards the Northerner. While the two men stared one another down in the hallway, the portly older man behind Mako stepped up and cleared his throat.

"I do believe I speak not only for this party but for the safety of those outside that this heathen is in no way deserving of your services. Now, if you would kindly move aside or else you shall be faced with the same fate as the boy." He smiled at the monk, his spectacles catching a ray of sunlight from the near window. Tenzin turned his attention to the man, hand tightening around his prayer beads.

"Are you quite sure you are speaking for the townspeople, Mr. Sato? Or are you just too excited to condemn an innocent to death for one last notch on your belt?" He was met by a loud laugh coming from Hiroshi.

"Innocent? Forgive my forwardness, but have you gone daft, old man? His kind is responsible for the near annihilation of your people! This boy is no more innocent than that of a thieving slave! I am fully aware that you have a close bond to him, and if not for your respected position among our people, you would be in question for where your loyalties lie." Hiroshi said, looking the monk up and down before sidestepping him and continuing his walk to the front door. Tarrlok gave the holy man a passing glance as he led the way, whereas the shackled prisoner refused to look up from the ground. He had caused enough trouble as is for the older man, and there was no need to add onto it. The heavy wooden door was pushed open, and Mako had to squint his eyes as the sun's light blinded him, its rays bouncing off the nearby snowbanks.

The town fell silent as he stepped out of the prison, cool air causing him to shiver in his threadbare clothes. As his sight became adjusted to the rapid change from his dark enclosure, Mako felt something hard strike his temple, a searing pain once again blinding him. Warmth trickled down the side of his face, faintly aware that whatever it was had been enough to draw blood.

"Sanji! Get away from that monster!" A mother rushed forward and scooped up the small child in her arms just as the child dropped another stone, giving Mako a hostile glare as she retreated. He remembered her and the child, remembered their family. They had always been so kind to him, smiling and laughing as they passed his shop. His eyes scanned the crowd as Tarrlok led him through the yard, heart sinking at the disgust and fear he saw instead of the happy faces he had come to know. All of it would forever be changed because of one simple word.

_Firebender._

They rounded the corner and he stopped in his tracks, his breath caught in his throat at the sight in front of them.

The townspeople had indeed been busy setting everything up. It must have taken them all night to gather the large amount of timber around the tall stake embedded in the ground.

At least it was a beautiful day to die…

The townspeople gathered quickly, all waiting in anticipation for the inevitable. It had been too long since they had witnessed a burning, finding themselves feeling uncertain about the event. It was the proper way to rid themselves of such a heathen, but one that they had grown up with and come to admire over many seasons? Perhaps they would simply blame it on his charm.

Green eyes scanned the crowd, cloak drawn tight to hide their face.

_He had been a simple vagabond, left alone in the world at far too early of an age. It had been sheer dumb luck that Mako stumbled upon the hiding spot of the orphan, green eyes staring up at him from between the crates of linens with fear, tiny frame shaking so hard the dust coating his cheeks threatened to fall off. He felt sympathy, having not seen this child around the town. Reaching a hand out to the stowaway, Mako watched the child flinch from him before green eyes flickered down to his gloved palm and back to ochre eyes. When it became obvious the child was not going to accept the open invitation, Mako sighed and straightened his back with a soft pop._

_"There's going to be a storm tonight. Worst one this season. I better get back home before it comes in. If only I had someone to help me board the windows and eat all this stew." He sighed loudly, turning on his heel and walking off at a leisurely pace. The quick sounds of scrambling feet approaching was enough to get Mako to smile to himself. _

_It had only meant to be a night, but as they sat at the table and listened to the storm outside the small cabin the blacksmith poured the boy another bowl of stew, asking for his name._

_"Since you'll be here, I might get to know my company." The little boy looked up at him, eyes bright and face cleansed from the dirt that covered his cheeks earlier. Mako had spared some old clothing in exchange for the threadbare rags hanging from his frame. The child swallowed, slowly flashing a toothy smile at the older boy._

_"I'm Bolin!"_

That had been nearly four winters ago, that one act of kindness striking up a near indestructible friendship between the two. The townspeople even went as far as calling the two brothers with how close and protective they were of each other. Mako had even set his new company to work when of age, shoveling coal into the furnaces at the shop when he wasn't off chasing after escaped pets. Now the crowd fell into a hush when the accused came into view, calloused hands clenching tightly around the cloak. Why? What had Mako done to deserve this? It wasn't his fault, and yet everyone had been eager to jump to this inhumane form of execution. '_Oh, it's proper. It's the right way for his kind.' _

Bolin scowled in disgust at the notion, looking at those around him with a sudden contempt when he spotted Tenzin hurriedly walking towards the back of a shed. At least that was enough to get a ghost of a smile out of the boy.

There was no chance that these traitors would get what they came for.

Hiroshi made his way towards the stand, practically beaming with unconcealed joy at what he had planned. To anyone standing in front of him waiting, it would appear that it was an act of pride for having caught another heathen after years of being done with the hunt. For the most part, it wasn't too far from the truth. It had been nearly ten years since the last time he had gone out of his way to bring down one of these monsters, his rage and bloodlust fueled by the recent passing of his beloved wife. This one… this one held a more significant purpose to one individual that he could not spot in the mass.

Green eyes scanned the crowd, cloak drawn tight to hide their face.

_He was simply meant to visit the manor to deliver the sabre that Hiroshi requested to be sharpened. It was a dangerous journey, given the old man's former profession as a Fire hunter. Mako caught sight of a servant branded with the Sato crest on his arm, amber eyes downcast. A brother of the same sun, forced into servitude in exchange for his life._

_It made Mako sick._

_There was no other reason at all for him to be there until he caught sight of the young heiress crossing the landing above him, curls of raven hair swept up in a half knot. Everything around the blacksmith seemed to fade away, the loud laugh coming from Hiroshi, the passing house staff, the distant barking of the watchdogs. There was only her, and he would have been more than a happy man if he were to die on spot should she be the last thing he would see. _

_It would not be their first encounter, nor their last. His secret had been accidentally revealed one cold night when he relit a lamp, remembering that the daughter of a renowned hunter lay next to him. Mako stared at her, his face remaining stoic while his eyes showed the fear he felt. The only thing that Asami was upset about was that he tried to hide himself from her. _

_"I won't tell."_

_The pair had grown quite attached, though both knew without a doubt that her father would never accept this bond. More than once did she shed tears over the late night rendezvous' or quick glances when passing in the market square. Each time he would ready to leave she would stop him with a pleading kiss, her delicate hands cradling his face as she whispered into the shadows between them._

_"Run away with me."_

She blinked back the tears, hands grasping at the reigns of her carriage as if her life depended on it. Tarrlok shoved him up towards the stand roughly, causing him to stumble awkwardly and hit the ground with his knees. The crowd let out a cacophony of shouts and angered curses, some reaching to their feet to retrieve rocks and throw at him. He bowed his head to avoid the stones as best as he could, yet even from her current place so far back back she could see how he flinched when each hit his body. The horses in front of her whined, tossing their heads back as the monk came around the corner, climbing into the carriage and seating himself next to Asami. He gave her a tight nod that went unnoticed by the heiress, who jumped down and gave the horse closest to her a gentle pat on the flank.

"It's going to be alright, boys." She whispered, trying to soothe the animals without tearing her eyes from the scene.

"Enough!" Hiroshi roared with a commanding tone. The townspeople lowered their arms begrudgingly, the rocks slipping from their hands back to the dirt. He smiled, looking them all over and completely passing over his daughter. The gleam of amusement in his eyes did not escape her even from such a distance.

"We have gathered here today for one reason, and one alone. For years, we have been bewitched and lied to by one we believed to be one of us. A member of this town. We have been deceived by this demon, and it is time to remind him and any others of his kind who are watching what is to become of those who sully that trust." He said, earning a few cheers from the onlookers. Her stomach twisted into knots, hands trembling before she took a breath to calm herself.

"You'll need these." Tenzin said softly, reaching behind him to retrieve a good sized wicker basket and handing it to her. She lifted the small cloth covering the items inside and grimaced, tucking in the corners of the cloth to hide the contents once again. The two looked up at one another, a silent bidding of luck passed between them as she pulled up her hood and walked towards the crowd.

Her hands grasped at the wicker basket tightly as if a life depended on it, which it just might as well have.

They had amassed a large audience, one that both Hiroshi and Tarrlok were fairly proud of given the occasion.

"This imposter has been feeding us lies, gathering information for his kind and planning our demise from the beginning! He is a murderer and shall be sentenced to death for his crimes!" These fools would believe anything he told them, their protector and savior of this tiny town. He was their second coming, their messiah. The energy from the crowd fueled him on with a wide grin, his hand going up to silence them.

"However, I am a fair man. I will allow this boy to confess to his sins and beg for forgiveness." He turned his eyes to Mako, who tensed without even meeting the older man's gaze. Tarrlok gripped him by his hair and forced his head back with a rough pull, causing him to bare his teeth to the crowd and hiss.

"What say you, heathen?"

The townspeople held their breath and waited for the firebender to speak, trying to appear brave when it was obvious how frightened they were. It was only fair to admit that he felt the exact same. Mako looked them all in the eye, noticing two familiar pairs of green staring back at him in the back with a painful ache in his chest.

"Speak, monster!" Tarrlok snapped.

He refused, glancing up at Hiroshi with such a fiery and venomous glare until he caught sight of something in the shrubs just feet away. A quick flash of white, darkened skin, and startling blue eyes staring back at him. Mako barely had time to register what it was he saw until the bushes moved with the slightest tremble and the figure was gone just as Tarrlok hauled him to his feet by his hair and dragged him to the stake. His heart hammered away, tattooing a painful impression against his ribs. He stared out at the crowd again, eyes widening in horror as the Northerner secured him to the pole with his arms above his head. Tarrlok moved down and removed the blacksmith's shoes with a smirk, tossing them aside carelessly and tugging on Mako's arm to ensure that he would not be going anywhere. His feet now bare, the prisoner kept himself from wincing as the rough logs beneath him riddled his soles with splinters. The thought of splinters being the worst of what he would have to face nearly made him give a watery grin.

The bushes rustled to the side again just as one of the men in the crowd came forth with a torch, the flames taunting the blacksmith. He had worked with these men, made idle chat with the women and even played with the children when there was a moment to spare. They had treated him as family, and now they wished to condemn him to death. Mako hung his head, swallowing with difficulty past the lump in his throat. Hiroshi offered to hear him out, let him plead guilty and beg for his life, but what good would any of it do? They would kill him anyways.

Hiroshi took the torch from the man with a nod, turning back to Mako and giving him a cold stare. He stepped closer, gripping the youth's jaw tight in hand and forcing him to look the older man in the eye.

"I warned you to keep away from my daughter, boy. This is what you deserve after disobeying me. It's what all of your kind deserves, you filthy firebender." He hissed, letting go of Mako and placing the torch against the logs until they began to smoke. The heat quickly picked up, searing the bottoms of his feet. He tried to move them to the side in a poor attempt to save himself, knowing that in just minutes his world would be engulfed in flames. No sooner had this thought crossed his mind did one of the logs closest to him become swarmed with the fire beneath followed by another and another. The flames were growing at a rapid pace, as was his fear. It would be simple to put the fire out if he had a calm mind, but under this condition it would be near impossible, and even so the townspeople would find another means of executing him.

"Please! Please, stop this! I've done nothing wrong!" He cried out, thrashing against the pole and causing the people in front of him to back away with a startled gasp. He could see Asami shaking her head and crying, Bolin near tears himself. Those were the only looks of sympathy he received. Everyone else wore such feral masks of loathing, disgust, and malicious hatred. The flames leapt up and licked against the exposed skin of his lower leg, drawing out an anguished shout from Mako. A laugh was heard next to him, the Northerner Tarrlok having thrown his head back at the sight of the blacksmith in such pain. It wasn't until the laugh was cut short and the crowd gasped loudly did look out of the corner of his amber eyes to the older man.

He still wore his ridiculous smile, though his eyes were of surprise as he stared down at the arrow protruding from his chest and the dark red blossoming around the shaft. Tarrlok glanced up at them all, coughing up blood and staining his front before collapsing to the ground dead.

Then, it seemed that time both slowed down and sped up simultaneously.

The ground shook violently, parting the crowd with such a force as columns of earth shot up, sending people scattering on unsteady legs. The bushes to the side of the stake erupted in a blur of leaves and white fur, a mighty roar coming from the fearsome beast as it chased away the mob. The creature was not alone as its rider dropped from the beasts back and notched another arrow, drawing the bow back and letting it fly at the runners. The gathered ran around, screaming and trying to get away from the new attacker, all except for three members of the crowd.

Bolin slammed his feet onto the frozen earth, disrupting the calm ground and creating craters, pillars, and deep gashes into the dirt, as if someone had sliced at the surface with a knife. The fire grew, distracting Mako from the scene before him as he desperately tried to calm himself down while ignoring the throbbing pain in his legs. He kicked at the logs nearest him, his toes cracking against the hard wood and causing him to howl in pain. The smoke rose, blurring his vision and suffocating him. If the flames themselves didn't kill him then the smoke inhalation would. He wasn't sure it was much of a comforting thought either way.

The rider of the large white beast –polar bear by what little he could see- wheeled around and stared up at him, blue eyes contrasting with the red war paint that decorated her face. At least, he hoped it was simply paint though there was no honest way to know for sure with the tribes. She pulled back her hood, exposing three wild braids adorned with feathers and beads. Mako blinked several times to try and clear his vision, watching as she lifted her arms above her head and turned to a dirtied snowbank nearest to her, moving her hands in continuous circles to move the snow. He felt his jaw drop in awe, quickly coughing as smoke filled the open cavity. There had been legends and tales of the surrounding tribes being able to manipulate water, even using it to heal the wounded but it was never believed. He was so caught up in the sight of the girl moving her hands in a rhythmic motion that he almost missed Hiroshi reaching into the folds of his jacket and pulling out a pistol, aiming it directly at the native.

"Watch out!" He shouted in warning, the older man beginning to pull back the trigger with a twisted grin. There came a thunderous clap, a pause and a heavy thud as Hiroshi dropped the gun to the ground with a shout, cradling his bloodied arm to his chest. Mako and the others looked up to see none other than Asami pointing a pistol of the same make and model at her father while pulling another from her basket, tears threatening to fall. The firebender was in shock that she would shoot her only family, her father, for his sake. What a foolish girl…

The native glanced at Asami with a nod before flicking her wrists towards the flames at Mako's feet, extinguishing the fire which nearly brought a broken sob from his scratched throat. Bolin ran forward, throwing up his hands and erecting a wall of earth behind him before racing to the other's side, the younger's face just as dirty as it had been the first day that they met with the addition of tear marks down his grimy cheeks. He lifted the blacksmith's arms off the large hook above his head, supporting his weight with ease and looking back at Asami, then to the tribeswoman. While they had planned this escape, what reasons the native had in assisting them were beyond the two. Bolin hefted Mako up in his arms and stepped over Tarrlok's still form, running away from the stake with the heiress and waterbender in tow.

"Where…where are you going?" Came a gruff pant from behind them, the sounds of uneven footfall and logs hitting against one another bringing them to a screeching halt. The group turned around slowly to see Hiroshi moving towards them slowly, blood running down his shattered arm and painting the dirt below an ugly shade of red. He raised his good arm, hand trembling as he aimed the pistol at them all. Asami scowled, standing her ground.

"You have one shot to use against the three of us. You have no chance." She lifted her chin defiantly, silently challenging him to try his worst. Her father looked between them all, from the brother in all but blood, to the savage that readied another arrow, to his daughter… his sweet, sweet child. At last his eyes landed on Mako, who struggled to stand on the cold ground despite the agonizing burns that covered his lower extremities. The two held a stare that spoke volumes: hatred, anger, bitter contempt and above all, fear. Hiroshi sneered, aiming the barrel of the pistol at Mako's chest.

"I only need one." He replied, deaf to the thunderous sounds of hooves against the ground until they were upon him. Hiroshi spun around, spectacles catching the glint of the morning sun and hiding the terror in his eyes as the horses sped past him, having barely missed the old man by a few inches. The carriage, on the other hand, slammed into his chest and sent the Fire hunter tumbling backwards with a strangled gasp of air. His glasses flew off his face and landed just feet from his, as did his pistol.

Asami took an involuntary step forward, mouth agape at the sight of her father immobile on the dirt road. If it had not been for the monk's urgent plea to board the carriage quickly, there was a chance she would have actually ventured over to Hiroshi's side. As she and the native climbed in and helped Mako inside, she watched with a small wave of relief as the older man slowly moved himself into a sitting position, clearly dazed.

The native put her fingers to her mouth and whistled, the shrill sound breaking the air. Not a few seconds later the girl's animal companion came bounding up to the carriage, causing Bolin to let out a frightened yelp at the close proximity of the carnivore. She grinned at his reaction, leaning down and speaking to the beast in a foreign tongue. The bear gave a low growl, large eyes searching the native's as the rider smiled at the animal, patting the polar bear on the head and sending it ahead of them.

"Go!" Bolin shouted, hauling himself into the carriage last and disrupting the ground between them and the town. The monk cracked the reigns and they were off, the road ahead riddled with stones and snow that made the ride jarring. Mako groaned as they hit a bump, his legs hitting the wooden boards under him. The native girl knelt beside him, brushing his hair back from his forehead and whispering in a soothing tone. Her blue eyes looked down to his blistering feet and legs, fully aware of two pairs of green eyes watching her every move.

"Who is she?" Asami asked out loud, watching as the other girl uncorked a water skin at her waist and draw the liquid into her hands. The monk spared a quick glance over his shoulder to see if they were being pursued and smiled in spite of the circumstances.

"I was fearful that we would not be enough, so I asked for assistance from my mother's tribe." Green eyes grew wide at that, the heiress looking the older man up and down in mute shock.

"But…you don't look-"

"Half. My father crossed the seas as a tradesman and stumbled into an ice cavern. It was by sheer chance that my mother stumbled upon him, and she took him back to her tribe to tend to his injuries. Such information about my past is privileged." He replied, pulling his right hand closer to him in order for the horses to follow his lead. Asami looked back to the younger brother of the blacksmith, who was watching the native like a hawk as she encased her hand in water like a glove.

"Does she have a name?" She asked again, transfixed by the sight of the water casting a bright glow. Her hands lowered onto Mako's burned legs, a shaky sigh coming from his parched lips. She moved up and down both extremities, going over every inch of damaged skin and smirking to herself, the red paint on her face cracking at the movement.

"_She _can understand you, so why don't you talk to me?" She replied in a snarky tone, looking up at Asami from the corner of her eyes. The heiress felt herself become warm in the face.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"Korra. You may call me Korra." She cut off Asami's apology, returning her focus back on tending to the firebender's injuries. His brother looked off to the side and snickered, earning him a smack on his arm. Korra gave the firebender a lopsided grin briefly before pulling the water from his legs.

"You have been marked. I am sorry." She muttered, nodding her head to the tissue that would not heal properly. Mako felt a wave of relief wash over him, washing away the pain but unable to reach the fear that remained in his heart. He looked down to his feet, the bottoms of his pants charred up to his calves and revealing dull, pink skin. What had been agonizing and blinding pain minutes before was reduced to a dull ache like he had been thoroughly scrubbed raw. When gone, he knew there would be a slight discoloration and even puckering of the skin on the bottoms of his soles, but for now he felt nothing but unbridled joy at having avoided death today.

"Thank you." He whispered, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. Though he was looking up at her and watching the grey sky pass overhead, the small group knew it was directed towards each of them.

"Thank you…"


End file.
